


Su Cuy'gar, Vod

by Triscribe



Series: What-If Star Wars AUs [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, Child Soldiers, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Platonic Relationships, Post-Order 66, Reunions, Time Travel, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, but that's not gonna stop these clones from keeping their Jedi alive and well, no one has any clue what's going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triscribe/pseuds/Triscribe
Summary: “We have a Jedi too!” The kid exclaimed, face lighting up with joy and awe. “A really real one from the Core, and he stayed to help even when the older ones left!”Cody’s breath caught in his throat. In the corner of his eye, he could see Boil’s hands faintly shaking.(Sometimes, second chances don't need explanations.)
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: What-If Star Wars AUs [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788598
Comments: 152
Kudos: 1863
Collections: Melida/Daan





	1. Little Brother

On a backwater moon, nine years before the Battle of Yavin, a rebel agent about to be captured instead turned his weapon into a bomb, reducing himself and the six stormtroopers surrounding him to ash.

CC-2224 died without a gasp.

And Cody woke up with a scream.

He jerked upright, hands grasping for a blaster, for his armor, none of which were to be found. An unfamiliar view of rough stone walls criss-crossed with thick roots met his gaze, unblocked by the limited vision of a stormtrooper helmet. Bewildered, Cody forced himself upright, to lean heavily against one side of the damp tunnel. Muscles twitching, heart pounding, the man desperately looked about, searching for a clue as to what had happened and where he’d landed.

Muffled voices from further down the tunnel reached his ears.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Cody clenched his hands until they stopped trembling. And then he cautiously stalked forward. The indistinct voices grew louder, turning into weak sobs, and reassurances being repeated over and over. It took a moment for Cody to realize why they sounded familiar.

It’d been years since he last listened to a vod, let alone a vod he _knew._

Caution dropped like an unneeded cloak, Cody staggered around the turn, and nearly fell to his knees at the sight before him.

Waxer, silent tears sliding out of bewildered eyes, wrapped in the tight embrace of Boil, who kept apologizing over and over. “It’s okay, vod,” Waxer murmured, one hand curled around his brother’s back while the other sank into Boil’s hair. “I’m here, I’m alive, we’re both alive.”

And they weren’t the only ones. Further up the tunnel, in groups of two or three, were more young men in black bodysuits. Gears, who’d died on Christophsis. Reddi and Fanner, lost in the second assault on Geonosis. Wooley, Trapper, Jig, Never, and at least a dozen others - men Cody remembered losing, remembered grieving. They were all supposed to be dead.

_He was supposed to be dead._

“Tion haar haran,” he whispered. Quiet though the words were, they attracted attention nonetheless.

“Commander!” Gears looked relieved, pushing himself upright. Others glanced up at his call, and soon enough Cody found himself at the front of a small crowd, all looking for orders and, hopefully, an explanation.

If only he had any to share...

 _The Force works in mysterious ways,_ an amused voice murmured in his memory. Cody shut his eyes and breathed in sharply. It had been too many years since he remembered that voice, since he’d _murdered_ its owner. When he finally felt strong enough to blink his eyelids back open, most of the men looked concerned - but Boil. Boil _knew._

“How long did you last?”

“Another decade,” Cody answered, voice devoid of emotion. Not because he didn’t have any, but it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist for the moment. “But I may as well have died with Order Sixty-Six.” Two other men besides Boil flinched. The rest had all died before. They didn’t know.

They needed to know.

Cody sighed, steeling himself. “At ease, men. We’ve got some storytelling to do.”

-Vod’e-

Several hours later, after grief and anger and numbness had passed, Cody waited just at the bottom of a shallow slope, beneath an exit out of the tunnels. Boil and Waxer were scouting beyond, the duo once again inseparable. Behind him in the tunnel, the remaining nineteen men held themselves still, silent, bearing rocks or mostly straight lengths of tree roots as weapons. Nothing near as good as even a pistol blaster, but- something. Something was better than nothing.

Two soft clicks from above. Cody gave the signal for returning friendlies. Three seconds, four, five, and then his best pair of scouts slid back down the earthy incline.

“Old ruins, but no inhabited settlements in the surrounding area,” Waxer reported.

“Might be a city on the other side of the mountain, though,” Boil added. “We saw light reflected on the cloud cover.”

Nodding, Cody glanced back up at the exit, and the limited light trickling down from it. They could see better by the faintly glowing moss scattered around the tunnel. “We’ll make camp for the night. See if daylight doesn’t bring us better options. Trapper, Jig, first watch with me.”

The men murmured agreements and started to settle into place. So of course, that was when they heard the light pitter-patter of running footsteps, and a child careened around a turn to crash headlong into Reddi.

“Whoa!” The man yelped, automatically grasping at small shoulders. “Watch it, kid!”

Wide eyes blinked up at him, and then at the rest of the troopers. Realizing just how many of them there were seemed to cause the child to panic, and they started struggling to get out of Reddi’s grip.

“Hey hey hey, easy there, don’t hurt him,” Waxer admonished, immediately moving closer to crouch at the kid’s side. “It’s alright, we’re friendlies, I promise. Can you speak Basic?”

The struggling went abruptly still, but those wide eyes continued to look more terrified than anything else. Cody took in the damp and grimy clothes, sloppy mending and fresh tears along the sleeves and pants legs, along with a blaster stuck through a braided rope belt.

After another minute of Waxer working his magic, the child gathered enough courage to speak. “Are you with the Melida? Or the Daan?” They asked in a wavery voice.

To a man, every trooper frowned. “The who?” Waxer inquired.

“The- the Melida and the Daan,” the kid said again, eyes darting around. “The adults. The ones fighting.”

Several troopers shifted uneasily. “Are you fighting too, little one?” Waxer asked as kindly as he could.

Tears welled up. “We want it to stop,” the child whispered. “We’re the Young, we won’t- we won’t fight in their war for them, we just want it to _stop.”_

Cody took another look past the grime and too-big clothes over too-little muscle. Four, maybe five, if he were a vod - which meant between eight and ten for a human without accelerated aging. Too young. Too young for a vod, let alone a civilian. Even too young for a-

Forcing that thought out of his mind, Cody carefully stepped closer, bringing the kid’s attentioned squarely onto himself. “We aren’t allied with either of these Melida or Daan, little one. We serve the Republic.” And that was true. The Empire turned him and his brothers into unthinking meat droids - it would _never_ hold Cody’s loyalty, so long as his mind remained his own.

The child bit his lip, before tentatively asking, “Like the Jedi?”

Sound roared in his ears. _Execute Order Sixty-Six. Good soldiers follow orders. “Blast him!” Good soldiers-_

“Yeah, kid,” Waxer thankfully answered. “We have a Jedi we’re supposed to be working under, but- we aren’t sure where he is right now.” As if any of them knew where _they_ were, or _when_ for that matter. Their deaths spanned the length of twelve years, and the tunnels held no clue of when along that timeline, or before, or after, they might have landed.

“We have a Jedi too!” The kid exclaimed, face lighting up with joy and awe. “A really real one from the Core, and he stayed to help even when the older ones left!”

Cody’s breath caught in his throat. In the corner of his eye, he could see Boil’s hands faintly shaking.

“Could you take us to this Jedi?” Reddi asked, looking hopeful. The child still standing before him nodded.

“Mm-hm! He’s the one who told us to check the outer tunnels, ‘cause he _felt_ something - that’s how we all know he’s a real Jedi, even if he hasn’t got a laser sword anymore.”

Cody frowned. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

“What else can he do?” Waxer asked, standing up and taking one of the kid’s hands with his own in order to start heading down the tunnel. Everyone else took up their squad positions and followed.

“He always knows when someone’s ‘bout to find us, or if there’s bombs and things. And! And he can duck blaster shots coming right for him, even when they come from _behind!_ He caught Firi by waving his hands before she could fall off a cliff, and sometimes he knows what I’m gonna say before I say it!”

Waxer chuckled. “Definitely a Jedi. What’s his name, then?”

“Obi-wan Kenobi!”

And just like that, the ground fell out from beneath Cody’s feet.

-Vod’e-

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” the youth with ginger hair and a Coruscanti accent said slowly. “You all think you’ve come back in time thirty years.”

“Only twenty, for most of us,” Waxer answered.

He’d taken the lead as spokesperson for their group, continuing to chat with little Ashyr as they led the troopers into an underground camp full of younglings, and then introducing everyone to the adolescent guards who stopped them. When “Obi-wan” appeared, he fit right in with the others, perhaps seven or eight in vod years, which probably meant right around fifteen or so.

Cody couldn’t get over how young he looked. But at the same time, the air of weariness, of _wariness,_ reminded him more of a battle-strained vod than anything else. No lightsaber, no confident attitude, no fond smile curling at the corner of his mouth-

“And you all want to help us, because I’m supposedly a General in the war you’ve been fighting in the future, and you’re all assigned to my command?” Obi-wan stared at them, a familiar eyebrow going up.

Waxer hesitated. And Cody spoke up.

“No.” Intense eyes flicked over to him - _All right there, Cody?_ \- and he forced himself to keep breathing. “We want to help, because civilian children shouldn’t be fighting their own families to try and stop a war. Because even if you _weren’t_ someone we knew and trusted, this isn’t right. Anyone with an ounce of morality can understand that.”

Obi-wan stared at him, before the youth’s shoulders slumped oh so slightly. “I wish my master had seen it that way,” he muttered sadly.

“What happened to him, sir?” Never cautiously piped up. “If you don’t mind us asking - why are you here by yourself?”

“Master Qui-gon and I were tasked with finding Master Tahl, not with aiding negotiations or helping the Young.” A bitter smile twisted the youth’s face. “He stayed true to that mission. I decided I couldn’t leave before helping to resolve this, one way or another. And by staying, I’m no longer a member of the Jedi Order.”

“That’s osik, sir,” Cody said flatly. “You’re the one acting like a true Jedi, aiding those who need you. If your teacher couldn’t see that, then he’s an idiot.”

Obi-wan blinked at him, repeatedly. His throat bobbed, and it looked like it took every ounce of his willpower not to start crying. “Thank you.”

Cody gave him a nod. “We obviously don’t have anything of our own, sir, but perhaps in the morning we can do an inventory of resources, see where our skills will be best put to use.”

“That- yes. That seems appropriate.” Regaining his composure, the youth straightened his shoulders. “We don’t have much, but I wouldn’t mind transferring some weaponry to you and your men from the younger children - use that as an excuse to keep them out of the fighting.”

Another nod. “Good idea. We’ll review the ranks as well, and perhaps set up some training routines.”

Obi-wan agreed. “I’ve got a datapad with some notes of what I’ve been trying to pass on-”

“In the morning, sir,” Cody said, squinting at the dark bags under the boy’s eyes. It took a long moment of hesitation, but eventually, the small Jedi accepted his insistence.

Soon enough, the men dispersed through the low-ceiling cave, introducing themselves to various younglings, and picking spots to lay down where they could see and easily reach the handful of tunnels leading in and out. Cody alone remained close to Obi-wan, fully ready to force the youth to lay down for the night cycle if needed.

Wonder of wonders, though, fifteen year old Obi-wan appeared to more readily accept orders than his thirty-five year old self, and curled up on a woven mat to drift off.

For a good while afterward, Cody simply laid beside him and stared. Only when absolutely certain Obi-wan had fallen asleep, he reached out to gently brush a strand of limp hair away from too-pale skin. “Ke’nuhoy jahaala, vod. Vod’ika,” he amended.

This wasn’t his General. But it _was_ his Jetii, and Cody vowed to keep him alive in this lifetime, no matter what.


	2. Little Cousins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody watched with undisguised amusement as Obi-wan tried to make himself look presentable. “You missed a spot.”

Cody watched with undisguised amusement as Obi-wan tried to make himself look presentable. “You missed a spot.”

The teenager shot him a scowl over one shoulder, before frantically swiping fingers through his hair to try and style it as neatly as possible. The short spikes of his early days on the planet had grown out, better resembling the short copper waves Cody remembered from his general. “If you aren’t going to be helpful, you’re perfectly welcome to go wait elsewhere.”

“And leave you alone to dissolve into a nervous puddle?” The man snickered, earning himself another dirty look. “Vod’ika, this isn’t anything more than the initial contact; no Senators or Ambassadors, just a handful of political aides talking about minor legalities.”

“It’s still laying the groundwork for more important negotiations later, and I don’t want to look like someone who’s spent the better part of a year living underground,” Obi-wan replied sternly.

“You _have_ spent-”

_“I_ know that, and _you_ and everyone else around here, but our visitors certainly don’t need to!” His expression spasmed, revealing a fair bit more anxiety that Cody expected. “What if the Senate sent a Jedi representative too?”

_Oh._

“Ob’ika,” Cody said, using the nickname that never failed to make his Jetii’s face turn bright red. “Whether they do or don’t, your choices are your own. You have no reason to be afraid of them, or ashamed, or anything else.”

Nonetheless, Obi-wan’s shoulders hunched, prompting Cody to step closer and rest his hands on them. “I wish... I wish it hadn’t gone the way it did, though. I’m- not ashamed, exactly, but-”

“You regret,” the man supplied. “And I regret it too, vod’ika - that you didn’t have a better teacher, one who didn’t insist there were only two options for you to choose between. But for what it’s worth, I think you took the better road.”

A year’s time spent fighting and surviving alongside one another was more than enough for trust to grow, and Cody’s words caused Obi-wan to slump against him, hands grasping at his back. He returned the hug, one hand coming up to card through soft hair. They stayed like that a while, until a knock sounded on the chamber door.

“Senate ship arriving in ten, vod’e!”

“We’ll be there,” Cody called back, before looking down at Obi-wan, cheek still smushed against his chest. “You ready?”

The boy nodded, pushing himself back upright. “Suppose I have to be.”

“Just for now. Just until the locals get their feet back under them.”

“And then what?” The dryly delivered question gave Cody pause, even as he followed Obi-wan out of the room and down the hall.

Then what, indeed? Something must have happened Before, which let his general return to the Order, but would it happen again? Or had it already been thrown off by Cody and the others arriving, changing things? Would Obi-wan decide not to try and become a Jedi again, in which case would he stay? Would he travel elsewhere? Would he agree to the brothers coming too, or insist on being alone for a while to get his bearings?

That last possibility curled coldly around Cody’s heart. He did his best to ignore it.

Outside of the old hotel, one of the few buildings left in good condition with enough rooms to house all of the Young, a small crowd gathered in preparation to head down to the landing pads. Only two elders each from the Melida and the Daan were allowed; mostly, there were members of the Young, and the Verburyc Sol’ii. Cody’s men no longer wore only their bodysuits - most bore armor made of scavenged materials, designs painted or woven or carved to mimic their old white plastoid and sun-gold paint. They carried weapons on their belts or slung over backs, held children in their arms or on their shoulders. Some had gotten more tattoos, others bore new scars.

Several of the Young’s leaders looked much the same - not just in their own scars and paint and armor, but in the way they held themselves, the readiness of coiled muscle to spring into action at the slightest hint of an attack. Obi-wan matched as well, when he entered the group, moved to stand beside his friends Cerasi and Nield - the taller boy bumped shoulders with him and laughed, he and the girl shared exasperated smiles, but they all stood at slight angles to one another, different fields of vision covering the surrounding area.

_Tion’ad hukaat’kama,_ Cody could remember instructing them. _Who’s watching your back? Who do you trust to keep eyes on your blind spots?_

He regretted not being able to prevent civilian children from becoming soldiers - but they were _alive_ to be soldiers. And there were others, smaller, younger, who spent time learning to bandage wounds, to hunt and fix meals, to shape scrap metal and spin fiber cord and carve hardwood. Teaching those tasks, necessary to keeping their ragtag army going, Cody could never regret.

_Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe - our language and our leader, all help us survive._

“Ni copaani slanar! Gedet’ye, Waxer-”

“Mhi liniba traat’aliit, nu traatika.” Taking a step back, Cody peered through the hotel’s entrance, and saw Waxer kneeling in front of a pouting child. “We don’t want to overwhelm the visitors, verd’ika, and you can be _very_ overwhelming.”

It took a moment of squirming, before the little girl gave in and grinned at his compliment. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hm. And you _better_ believe, if one of these visitors turns out to be a shabuir, I will definitely point them out for your sole attention.” That whispered comment earned a giggle, and a hug around the neck, before the kid went skipping off. Waxer stood and turned, offering Cody a shrug after spotting the other man. “She doesn’t like being left behind, these days.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Cody replied. At least half the Young were orphans due to the war, who ran away from new caretakers still just as invested in the conflict as their lost parents. “Everything set for the guests?”

“‘Lek, vod. Rooms are ready, we’ve picked out who’s going to play tour guide, and lunch will be good to go as soon as everyone’s back.”

Humming his approval, Cody clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Good work. Let’s get this lot moving, then.”

Soon enough, the small crowd of fifteen or so got underway, heading for the designated landing pad marked off for their visitors. Eyes from hidden places watched them go, those told to stay behind settling into the scout blinds to wait. No one called them out on it.

At the pad, Cody didn’t need to shout orders for his brothers and their little cousins to arrange themselves in honor guard formation; they took up the correct spots automatically. Only the adult representatives, plus Obi-wan, Nield, and Cerasi, remained in the center spot. Cody parked himself at Obi-wan’s shoulder, and offered the youth one final, reassuring smile before pulling on his bucket, the lights of a small spacecraft just lighting up the fog above them.

When the ship’s landing gear touched down, the ramp descended to reveal a handful of people waiting to disembark. Cody counted three senatorial aides, two record clerks, six less finely dressed beings who were likely servants... and at the very back, a pair of hooded figures. One bore the distinct curving shape of montrals, which made Cody’s breath catch in his throat - _she called him “Skyguy”, ori’vod, you should’ve seen how offended he got_ \- while the shorter one looked lumpier, as if there were ridges or bumps along their skull.

The senate representatives approached, clearly intent on speaking to the adults present, only to stall as Cerasi and Nield took point in greeting them. Introductions were passed around, including factions, with Cody’s youngest brother saved for last.

“And this is Obi-wan Kenobi, formerly of the Jedi Order, without whom a great deal more of us would be dead,” Cerasi said, nodding towards him. Obi-wan offered a bland smile in return, though his attention clearly remained on the robed pair waiting patiently by the ship’s ramp. Cody briefly touched his back, reminding the youth of his presence. A slight twitch of the boy’s shoulder acknowledged and thanked him.

Two of the aides murmured between themselves, as the third bowed his head. “Your name has been mentioned, young Kenobi,” he smiled. “I hope this visit’s negotiations are as fruitful for you as they are for the Republic.

“Um, thank you, Aide Organa,” Obi-wan replied.

Soon enough, the diplomats moved on, absorbed into the circle of Young and Sol’ii as they started to head back towards the hotel. Obi-wan remained in place, however, so Cody waved Waxer on and stayed beside him. The pair of hooded figures finally began to approach when they were alone, and though the taller one with montrals kept to a sedate pace, the shorter one gradually sped up until they practically tackled Obi-wan. He laughed, returning the hug, and under his helmet Cody couldn’t help but grin.

But then the newcomer dropped his hood, revealing black and red skin, and the man felt his blood freeze.

_He pursued us from Naboo to Tatooine to Coruscant and back, the General said, idly running the pad of his thumb back and forth across the whiskey glass. And evidently, being cut in half by my blade has only given him deeper conviction._

_You beat him once, you can do it again, sir._

_I certainly hope so, Cody. I certainly hope so._

“You are an _idiot,”_ the younger version of Maul announced, tugging on a stray strand of Obi-wan’s hair. “Do you have any idea how _worried_ we’ve all been?!”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t just _leave,”_ the human boy shot back, bringing up a hand to playfully smack away the grasping fingers. “Besides, I’ve had help.”

“So we heard, young Kenobi,” an almost musical voice cut in. Cody finally tore his gaze away from the - _Sith!_ \- Zabrak still holding onto his vod’ika, to meet the bemused gaze of Shaak Ti. “Just as we have heard of these, Loyal Ones, yes?”

Coughing, to give himself a moment for his mind to reboot, Cody forced a nod. “Yes, Master Jedi. That’s the, simplest translation.”

She hummed, considering. “And just how does a group of Mandalorians find themselves assisting children in a civil war on a small world of little significance, if I may ask?”

“It’s, a long story.” He glanced at Obi-wan. “But if you know anything about Mando culture, Master Jedi, you know we couldn’t turn our backs on kids.” His vod’ika smiled, but Maul - _Maul!_ \- was studying Cody with a look he didn’t know how to interpret.

“Yes,” the Zabrak boy said, “Master Ti and I know that better than most Jedi.”

-Vod’e-

When they rejoined the others at the hotel, Cody swiftly signalled his vod’e not to act strange around the young Maul. Those who’d lived long enough to be involved with the Siege of Mandalore tried to protest, but Waxer swiftly got them in line. When the newcomers were distracted by a dozen small children with curious questions, Obi-wan sidled up to Cody’s side, an inquiry obvious in his gaze.

The man grimaced. “How long have you known Maul?”

“We were crechemates,” Obi-wan answered. “He came to the Temple a bit late - five standard years, I think - but we’ve been in the same circle of friends ever since.” After a long moment spent studying Cody’s face, he added, “I take it that’s not something you knew.”

“It’s something that’s _different._ Your other self, the General - I knew what enemies were personal for him, the ones who’d been Jedi before they were Sith. But Maul- as far as I know, he’d _only_ been a Sith.”

Obi-wan’s frown deepened. “...I can remember, the creche masters used to watch him, a lot more closely than anyone else. Like, they were worried about him.”

“Or about what he might do,” Cody grumbled, glancing at the Zabrak. A pair of dark-haired siblings had dared to climb to his shoulders in order to pat the boy’s small horns, putting a wide-eyed look of mild alarm on his face. Master Ti stood close by, but she seemed more inclined to chuckle at his predicament than help. Then the togruta shifted, just enough for her knowing gaze to meet Cody’s eyes. He looked away first.

Unsurprisingly, that wasn’t the end of it.

Master Ti sought him out during the communal lunch, as Cody sat and kept watch at the edge of what used to be a convention hall. The Senate diplomats tried to turn themselves into a bubble of calm, but small children who’d lived through war didn’t bother with such uselessness as social decorum, and made themselves at home sitting between elegant robes and pristine shoes. A few of the Daan and Melida adults drifted close, but Cody’s vod’e kept their distance, most only barely tipping their helmets back to eat. Scars and beards made it harder for most nat-born to notice their shared face, but better to be cautious than cursing.

“Is there a name or rank I should address you by, Master Mando?” One dusky red hand held a bowl of stew close; the other offered a second his way.

“Just Cody, Master Jedi,” he answered, accepting the food. “Though you might hear some of my brothers slip up and refer to me as ‘Commander’.”

“If it’s ‘just’ Cody, then you are welcome to call me Ti.” She hummed, delicately stirring a wooden spoon through the stew. “I’ve heard of Mandalorian groups that never remove their helmets with company other than family present.”

Cody snorted, and took that opportunity to lift his own bucket. “We’re not that dedicated - just a bit blaster shy.”

The togruta nodded, and proved her sneaky side by waiting until he’d taken a swallow of stew to speak up again. “Do you have a brother called Alpha-17, Cody?”

His swallow went down the wrong way, and Cody coughed, long and hard. He wound up setting aside the bowl, and even taking off his helmet completely to avoid it falling to the ground. Master Ti smoothed a hand against the base of his neck as he bent over, making it suddenly easier to get air in again. Cody gave one more cough to clear his throat before straightening back up.

“Alpha?” He croaked, rubbing a hand against his sternum. “When did you-?”

“Close to ten years ago,” Master Ti replied, smiling like a tooka that successfully found the prey it had been tracking. “He approached me on a mission, with Maul sitting on his hip. Apparently he’d stolen the child away from a Sith Lord in the making, but didn’t have the means of bringing him to our Temple.”

A faint ringing started up in his ears, and Cody found himself grinning. _“That_ explains it.” Alpha came back, and probably landed almost on top of Maul the same way the 212th crashed in on Obi-wan. Except- ten years- _he’s been here much longer than us._

“Do you know where he is?”

“No. But I receive comm messages every so often, so I know he’s still alive.”

Cody sat back with a huff. “Typical.”

“Wolffe and his Pack, on the other hand, never seem to be out of sight of my dear friend Plo Koon.”

The grin made a return appearance, even bigger than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A'ight, third installment of this will finally include Qui-gon, for all of those in line to punch him, and then we'll have a third installment of this series to bring everyone together. Thanks for being patient, folks :)  
> -Tri


	3. Little Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Padawan,” the tall human said, quietly, yet somehow projecting his voice for the entire circle of brothers to hear.
> 
> “...Master Jinn,” Obi-wan replied, in an empty tone. 
> 
> Cody scowled.

The Senate party left three days after their arrival, impressed at the speed at which the Young and their Verburyc Sol’ii had established a firm hold on the planet’s soon-to-be unified government. Voting rights were to be granted at the age of twelve and removed after an individual turned twenty-five; all committees and elected bodies would consist of even numbers of Melida and Daan, with a two-thirds majority required to approve any decisions or else they would remain in stalemate. Even the future position of Senator would be shared for a minimum of three generations, to avoid outcries of bias - and the very first pair to do so would be Cerasi and Nield.

“I still can’t believe they wanted _me_ to do it,” Obi-wan muttered, causing Cody to nearly choke on his drink.

“They what?”

“Wanted me to be their Senate representative,” his little brother reiterated, handing the man a towel to wipe his face with. “Or Nield did, anyway. I don’t think Cerasi had fully committed to the idea like him, and she backed off first when they saw the face I made.”

“Horror, or flat out disgust?” Cody joked.

 _“Both._ I mean, could you imagine me walking into the Senate rotunda dressed like this?” Obi-wan gestured to his swamp-stained tunic and patched trousers.

“Well, I suppose you could set off a new high fashion trend.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, before Obi-wan broke, and Cody quickly followed. Their laughter rang out from the rooftop they’d been having lunch on, and down below, several faces looked upward, wondering what was so funny.

Eventually, though, the snickers trailed off, and Obi-wan leaned back on his hands, feet outstretched as he stared up at the canopy above their heads. “I want to see them get everything up and running, ori’vod. I can’t- I don’t think I can leave before seeing this all the way through. But then...”

“Time to move on?” Cody asked, his heart pounding just a little bit quicker.

“Yeah,” the youth replied, still looking upwards.

“Coruscant?”

Obi-wan shook his head. “No. As good as it was to see Maul, and hear about the others, I- I can’t go back.” His voice broke a little, and Cody shifted over to wrap an arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Alright, vod’ika. We’ll go wherever you want.”

Unfortunately, that had the opposite effect of what Cody was aiming for - Obi-wan stiffened, and straightened up, taking himself out from under the man’s arm. “You don’t have to feel obligated to follow me, Cody, _none_ of you do-”

“Ob’ika,” he interrupted. “Do you remember what I said when we first showed up here?”

It took a moment. “...you wanted to help, because even if you didn’t know who I was, it wasn’t right for children to fight their own families in a war they wanted to stop.”

“That’s right. And the war’s over now - I don’t doubt at least a few of the others will want to stay, to keep helping rebuild and put their blasters behind them. But as for me, I’m not about to let a kid who went from Temple life to an active warzone try to navigate this galaxy completely by himself.” Cody knocked a couple of knuckles against Obi-wan’s forehead. “Not that I think you couldn’t figure out some way to take care of yourself, but you don’t _have_ to. Not alone.”

The youth finally grinned at him then - small, and crooked, but it counted. “I’m starting to think you’re too loyal for your own good.”

 _Good soldiers follow orders-_ Cody swallowed, and smiled back. “Damn straight.”

-Vod’e-

Jury-rigged scanners hidden in the top floor of their hotel headquarters only gave Cody’s brothers about fifteen minutes of warning prior to the ship’s arrival. Not even a full ten-day since the Senate part left, he _knew_ it to be too early for more negotiators - and so, as the small vessel touched down, it was greeted by a circle of blasters around the landing pad, a second layer of snipers tucked into the trees.

Cody positioned himself directly in front of the ship’s ramp as it started to descend. Obi-wan, as ever, stood at his side, both their weapons pointed at the ground but with safeties switched off. Normally, Cody didn’t mind his little brother keeping close, as it would offer him the shortest possible reaction time to keep the kid from getting into fresh trouble.

When a solitary figure stepped out of the ship, however, and Obi-wan went abruptly stiff, “normal” took a nosedive out the window.

“Padawan,” the tall human said, quietly, yet somehow projecting his voice for the entire circle of brothers to hear.

“...Master Jinn,” Obi-wan replied, in an empty tone. 

Cody scowled.

He made a couple of quick hand gestures, before taking two firm steps to plant himself directly in-between Obi-wan and the approaching Jedi. Jinn pulled up, clearly surprised. Wooley and Jig took the moment to slide up on either side of their youngest brother, and nudge the boy back into the treeline.

“In case it slipped your mind, Master Jedi,” Cody said, drawing Jinn’s attention squarely onto himself. “Obi-wan isn’t your student anymore.”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “That is why I am here, Mandalorian. To offer him the opportunity to renounce his mistake, and return with me to the Order.”

“Mistake,” Cody scoffed. _“You’re_ the one who _left_ him - seems to me _that’s_ the mistake.”

Jinn’s expression darkened further, and his hands drifted to rest against his belt, one of them not so subtly placed directly atop his lightsaber. “I am not inclined to argue with you, Mandalorian, but this is Jedi business.”

“It’s Obi-wan’s business. And seeing as he’s part of our clan now, that makes it _my_ business.” Unwilling to be intimidated, Cody took another step forward, putting himself within striking range of Jinn’s weapon. “So unless you’re going to start off with an apology for my little brother, you won’t be speaking to him at all.”

“He is the one who should-” Jinn paused, and clearly made himself take a deep breath, before exhaling slowly. “Regardless. There is still a place for him, in the Jedi Order, should he be prepared to work for it. I trust you will at least pass that along?”

“Sure.” Cody smiled grimly. “In the meantime, I’m certain you can appreciate how little we have at the moment in the way of space and resources.” He nodded meaningfully back towards the other man’s ship, and internally cackled at the almost-sour expression on Jinn’s face.

“Of course. When Obi-wan wishes to speak with me, you’ll know where I am.” And with that, he retreated back up the ramp and out of sight.

Cody left half a dozen men to keep an eye on the Jedi, before hurrying back to their headquarters. Cerasi and Nield met him at the hotel’s entrance, both looking murderous.

“Wooley told us,” the girl stated. “They took Obi up to your room - figured it would be the most secure, without any windows.”

“Good. Can you two manage without us for the rest of today?”

“We’ll be fine, old man,” Nield huffed. “Go make sure our di’kut Jedi is alright.”

Cody spared a moment to clap both of them on the shoulder, and hurried upstairs. As promised, once he knocked and was allowed inside, he found Waxer, Wooley, Jig and Fanner on Kenobi Detail. Even bundled up and tucked between two of their brothers, Obi-wan looked acutely miserable.

“How much did you hear,” Cody asked, as he crouched in front of the boy.

“Just, up to you telling him he’s the one who made a mistake.” Hands twisting in the blanket laid across his lap, Obi-wan didn’t look up. “Does he actually want me back? Or is he just following the Council’s orders?”

 _Good soldiers follow-_ “I don’t know,” Cody admitted. “And honestly, I don’t care. He’s given you up before, I wouldn’t trust him not to do it again.” If anything, Obi-wan seemed to curl into himself even more. Sighing, Cody budged Jig out of the way, and got the kid leaning against his side. They stayed like that for a few hours, Waxer trying and failing to get their little brother to eat anything... until there came a knock at the door.

“It’s Ashyr,” Obi-wan mumbled, as Fanner hesitated on his way to answer. The man picked up his pace, and opened the door to reveal a ten year old child wearing the most wicked grin Cody had ever seen.

“The big Jedi tried to sneak off his ship,” Ashyr announced, causing several hearts to skip a beat. “But Boil caught him and cussed him out, and me an’ Luchi snuck on board for a minute, and I found this!” A lightsaber was proudly held up, and Cody blinked, because he could tell it wasn’t Jinn’s - and then Obi-wan choked.

“I’m going to guess that belongs to Ob’ika,” Waxer said dryly, as the delighted thief skipped forward to deliver their stolen prize.

“Yeah,” Obi-wan managed to say, his eyes filling up with tears. “Yeah, it is. Thanks, Ashyr.”

“You’re welcome! I already showed Kippi and Dev and Avo, and Goffen promised me an extra bowl of bujii at dinner ‘cause I didn’t get caught,” the child practically preened.

“Ash’ika, _why_ did you steal this off the ship?” Cody couldn’t help but ask.

“‘Cause Obi’s always saying he’s not really a Jedi, but now he’s got his laser sword back!”

Slowly, Obi-wan’s fingers curled around the hilt of his returned weapon. “...there’s more to being a Jedi than just having a lightsaber,” he murmured, too quiet for anyone but Cody to hear over Ashyr’s continued excited rambling.

-Vod’e-

“I won’t go back with you,” Obi-wan said, standing tall in front of Jinn. “And I won’t apologize, either. People were dying, who needed help. _Children_ needed help. They may not have been our assigned mission, but they still deserved our compassion.”

“...perhaps so,” the man replied, looking ten years older than when he’d arrived that morning. “But in that case, I will need your lightsaber back.”

“Again,” Obi-wan said wryly, already unclipping the weapon from his belt. He lightly tossed it to the older human, nodded curtly, and turned on his heel to depart the landing pad without another word.

Cody felt his heart swell with pride.

Jinn watched until Obi-wan’s slight figure vanished into the trees, before sighing. Cody waited until he’d gotten all of one foot onto the ship’s ramp, and made his move. “Master Jedi, one last thing.”

The other man didn’t get a chance to do more than glance over before Cody’s fist caught him right in the nose.

“That’s the only warning you get,” he announced, holding steady as Jinn staggered back, one hand grabbing for his lightsaber as the other pressed against the wash of blood suddenly painting the lower half of his face. “Don’t come near Obi-wan again.”

With that, Cody pulled back, taking a page from Skywalker as he gave a jaunty, mocking salute on his way down the camouflaged path. Jinn glowered back, but didn’t make any move to step away from his ship. And thankfully, a few minutes later, it lifted off above the forest canopy, departing for orbit and hyperspace beyond.

“Good riddance,” Cody muttered.

“Was that really necessary, ori’vod?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, grinning over his shoulder at Obi-wan’s raised eyebrow. “Besides, it kept him from checking to make sure there was still a piece of kyber in that lightsaber.”

Snorting, the boy leaned against him, fingers brushing over the hidden pocket in his tunic. “Yes, well, I’m sure he’s going to notice sooner or later.”

“With any luck, it won’t be before he’s halfway to Coruscant. Now come on,” Cody swung an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, to lead him back to headquarters. “Let’s see if the younglings managed to find any usable parts for your new saber.”

**Author's Note:**

> Su cuy'gar - You're still alive; a greeting  
> Vod - brother  
> Tion haar haran - what the hell  
> Osik - crap  
> Ke’nuhoy jahaala - (an order to) sleep well  
> Vod'ika - little brother
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never actually read, or even seen in person, any of the novels about Obi-wan's padawan years, and the majority of my knowledge comes from fan fiction and tumblr.
> 
> Additional note: there's this large, nebulous idea in my head, of multiple clones getting sent back after their deaths to various important moments in the timeline, but aside from this first bit that came fairly easily, I'm still fiddling with the details. So, maybe we'll see more chapters added on to this one, maybe not. Marking it as complete for now regardless.


End file.
